


The Illustrious

by SirWaffle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Battle Scenes, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Minor Character Death, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Underage Drinking, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirWaffle/pseuds/SirWaffle
Summary: This story will be based on original characters from a campaign in CK2. It follows the life and reign of Aegon V "the Illustrious". Not a great summary but it is short for now as this is currently only a prelude.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 3





	The Illustrious

**Author's Note:**

> As said in the Summary this is my first work so mistakes with the dates may happen as well as other issues. Feel free to correct me or offer any criticisms.

The drums started and men felt their pounding in their hearts. Beats that casted out and overpowered the hammering of hearts nervous and fearful surrounded all nearby. A beautiful rhythm which was meant to enforce the discipline that was drilled into these peoples minds least they gave into the baser instincts of fear and cower away. Smarter men would cower and give blessings to the Seven that they may see their loved ones yet. Embrace themselves with their own children and wives. Cowards would grow old with comfort and would give love and be loved. Yet these men would hold. Yet the drums would beat.

An endless sea of horrific sounds drowned out any hope of sane thought. The dark sky was alit with thousands of small bright lights streaking across it forward and backwards. Balls of fire where hurled and the impacts that followed deafen all with massive booms and crunches. To the green and untrained these sounds only feed the fears growing inside them. To the veterans and experience, they only felt satisfaction at the damage being done.

A knight colored in silver and black sat amounted upon his massive pale stead. Armored in pitch-black plate with silver overtones and cape while clasping a longsword with an unearthly purple hue that rippled throughout its length. Taking in the scene of death and horror, the knight was reminded of a dozen or more scenes that lay deep within his mind. How often has he seen such death? Such wanton destruction and bloodlust. Why was now different?

Years past this knight felt nothing more then the utmost euphoric ecstasy at the sight of battle. Men would live and die by his words. Bravery and chivalry placed on full display. Death and blood all-round and yet he believed it was the height of purpose. These fields were not blooded this night because of his ambitions or pride. Now he was facing the consequences of his failures. Countless would die without any real acknowledgment from the world due to him. 

“Forward! Forward!” the great knight calls out to his stead as he squeezes his legs. He passes units and squads of men in formation. All are clad in various ways. Some like him are in plate and mail while awaiting the glory sure to follow the dark night. Many are in leathers and gambeson without metal or shield. Righteous fodder they are. The nameless, the homeless, those without family all flocked when called. All would die when called. “

“For the Seven and the King” they shout to steel themselves. As if they serve a better purpose then to die on command. The knight has seen them all before. Those that die with the fantasy of immortality in their hearts.

The knight makes his way up in between the rank and file for the view he once cherished. He pulls back on the reigns and the beast halts. Upon his hill, upon his horse he sees the righteous battle. Stretching out into this dark night lies his power, his armies, his subjects. In formations, in squadrons, in units. Lit up by the lanterns hosted up on flags and staffs to drive back the darkness. Marching forward. Marching into darkness and the cold. At the front, the knight can see the formations clinch and morph indicating contact. The dying screams of friend and foe are overpowered by the thousands of nameless sounds of a battle mashed together.

The plated knight lifts an arm and a hand. The signal is given for the horn blowers to blow. Their deep and rhythmic tones care on. The core infantry advance. The skirmishers have had their fun and now it was time for the blood. Fire and Blood. No cowards are suffered in the silver knight’s cohort. Heaviest plate in front with light in back and sides. The bulk must weather the most. Must endure. Must shatter those and deliver themselves the victory.

Two Knights clad in white move up behind the knight in black and silver. Ready to protect and ready to defend. Ready to die. Here at Wayfarers Watch the armies meet. Same as the dozens of times before and yet the knight knows he will remember this one and it will be the last he will forget.

It is 288 AC and King Aegon V “the Illustrious” rides into battle again with the beat of the war drums.


End file.
